


Keep on Laughing

by vogue91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Gen, Introspection, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 20:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13015164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: We would’ve showed to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that who dares to laugh is the master of the world.





	Keep on Laughing

_[It means no worries_

_for the rest of your days_

_it’s our problem-free philosophy_

_Hakuna matata]_

From time to time, I happened to hear it.

At night, in the dark, with George’s heavy breath in the background.

_“Oh, why can’t you become a little more level-headed? Why can’t the two of you be like Bill, Charlie and Percy? Why are you always looking for trouble?”_

Our mother’s thousand-and-one whys, those we had soon learnt to laugh about.

Sometimes I thought that hadn’t she been so annoying, maybe George and I would’ve ended up like Bill or Charlie for real. Of course, never like Percy.

Instead at the first tricks, at the first jokes, the first warning of our attitude fighting to surface... we saw that maybe our path wasn’t written for us, that there wasn’t gonna be any letter telling us we had become Prefects or Head Boy.

A grunt brought me back to reality. I turned to face George, and I saw him fighting subconsciously with his sheets, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep. I had slept with him long enough that it would’ve been a long battle.

When he temporarily calmed down, I let my gaze wander through the room.

That place, small and with a slight scent of mould, was able to bring me back in time, to a past that was pretty recent, but that seemed lightyears ago to me.

 

_“Mom is never gonna want to talk to us again.” George says, hesitating._

_I don’t remember to have ever seen him hesitate before, and yet I can understand why he does now._

_“I don’t think so. I’m sure that after cursing us she’ll be happy to talk to us.” I reply, smiling. He snorts, he’s not in the right mood for this kind of jokes right now._

_As much as mom has annoyed us, I realize neither of us want to do even the slightest damage to the relationship we have with our family._

_We may mock them, we may have gone against whatever plan they had for us, it doesn’t matter._

_We are Weasley as well as them, and we love them._

‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ was a project which had been work in progress for too long, and at that time is was one step to becoming reality. It was what we wanted, what we had saved for, what had given us more than a sleepless night, what we must be grateful to Harry for.

And right now, laying on a bed that was noisier than a symphonic orchestra with a hundred instrumentalists in action, I thought it was the best thing that had ever happened to us.

George and I were so damn similar to each other, and so damn different from the others.

We didn’t want our future to fall on us without having a say, we wanted to build it according to what we were, and what we’ve always showed we could’ve been.

Careless.

Without caring to study in order to get those Es Percy loved so much, without caring to follow the rules, without caring to make the right thing at the right time.

There was no behavioural flaw, it was a lifestyle we had perfected throughout the years, and that we liked way too much to give up.

And, once we’ve become masters of laughter, of jokes and of this life, where nothing is able to impact our good mood, what was the best course if not to share what we had with others?

So our project was born, what we were supposed to do had surfaced: give a laughter, in a time where there were very few reasons to laugh.

And we did it. That way we felt we were giving our contribution to a war that, it could be read on anyone’s eyes, seemed to be lost before it even started.

I laughed thinking about our mother’s face the first time she came to the shop. It was like up until that moment she had refused to believe we had actually done it, and had just then surrendered to the fact that it was real.

 

_“Fred and George Weasley.” she hisses, with that homicidal voice that she’s used to reserve us._

_“Yes, mommy?” George answers, innocent._

_“What do you think you’re doing? You have to go back to_ school _, you have to take your N.E.W.T.. You can’t be at this... at this...”_

_“This incredibly smart project?” I provoke her, grinning. She closes her eyes for a second, sighing._

_“This is really what you want? Weren’t you thinking about the pain you’re causing to your father and I?” all three of us turn toward dad, who’s with Ron, laughing out loud with the Headless Hats._

_“Mom” I start again, more seriously. “It’s what we’ve always wanted to do, and I’m sorry that you disagree. But here we are and here we’re going to stay.” her expression sweetens, then she turns away and joins the others._

_“Good luck then.” she mutters without looking at us, her voice barely audible._

We considered it our greatest success. Molly Weasley’s blessing, the woman who would’ve gladly seen us behind a desk at the Ministry of Magic.

We were in it, and we couldn’t change a thing anymore. Nor we would’ve wanted to.

I closed my eyes, listening to my brother’s irregular breathing, like the usual lullaby I’ve heard since we were born.

There was no rosy future in front of us, nor in front of anyone else, but right now we owned the strongest weapon of all, strongest than Prophecies, Giants, Werewolves and Unforgettable Curses.

We owned the chance to forget and making forget, at least for a short while, what was going on in the real world, like our little shop without pretences was located in a parallel universe, far from evil’s contamination.

We would’ve taught to live day by day, taking any chance, following one dreams hoping they could become real, like it had happened to us. We would’ve showed to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that who dares to laugh is the master of the world.

Aside from this, no tribulation staining minds too young to know pain.

Absolutely, unconditionally careless.  


End file.
